Page 83 of The Endless War

“They’re moving to cut us off,” someone shouted from above. “Rebels are only raising their sails now—they might not make it!”

Zarrah sucked in a breath, because if the rebels were caught, they’d be executed or imprisoned here. All because they’d risked everything to get to her. All because they seemed to believe she had a claim to the crown, though no one had given an explanation for why.

“Go sail the ship.” Keris pushed Aren away from him. “If they catch us only to learn Lara killed their prince …”

Bermin was dead?

Zarrah clenched her teeth, cursing the twist of fate that had decided they’d pay for allowing him to live and again for allowing him to die. Yet on the heels of it came the bite of unexpected grief. Bermin was her cousin, and despite their differences, he’d been a near constant in her life. Not only that, he was a victim of Petra as well, her cruelty to him having shaped the man he’d become. Zarrah would have done the same as Lara had if she’d witnessed Keris being shot, but that didn’t mean she was without grief that her cousin would never have the chance to redeem himself.

Aren gave Keris a tight nod, then strode to the helm. “No lanterns! We need to lose them in the dark!”

The rest of his orders were a wordless hum. If Lara had killed Bermin, and any witnesses were left alive, it would give her aunt the grounds she needed to one day attack Ithicana.

“What’s done cannot be undone,” Lara said, as though having heard Zarrah’s thoughts. “Help me get him inside before he bleeds to death. Keris, stand up.”

Keris said nothing in retort, no quip or rejoinder, and that, more than the shake in his body, filled Zarrah with fear as she slipped under his arm, supporting his weight. The last of the lanterns were extinguished, plunging the vessel into darkness, but above, the moon shone bright, illuminating the ships pursuing them.

She prayed the Ithicanians would live up to their reputation on the high seas, for the navy would not give up easily.

EACH BREATH HEdrew in took more effort than the last, the roar of blood in his ears drowning out the shouts of the Ithicanians. But not the feel of Zarrah against him as she dragged him toward the captain’s quarters.

“Why did you leave the rebels?” The expenditure of breath it took to ask left him so lightheaded that stars swam in his eyes.

“Because you—” She broke off, giving her head a sharp shake. “They keep calling me the rightful empress, and you said you know why. I need you to tell me.”

Lara gave a snort of disgust, but Keris barely heard it over the loud ringing in his ears. When he’d seen Zarrah coming after him, part of him had hoped … Keris shoved away the half-completed thought, hiding it beneath forced flippancy as he said, “You needn’t have expended the effort. Daria knows the truth, as does the commander.”

“They wouldn’t tell me, and I …” Zarrah averted her eyes. “I’m here, so it might as well come from you.”

“Yes, let’s interrogate the dying man for information an entire rebellion knows,” Lara snarled.

Keris ignored her. “Let’s get to it,” he said between clenched teeth. “Then you can depart at your earliest convenience.”

“Now is not the time!” Lara kicked in the door of the captain’s chambers. “I need to get the arrow out and stop the bleeding, or you will die. So shut up.”

There was an edge of panic in his sister’s voice that told him she wasn’t exaggerating, and fear coursed through him. Fear, but also anger. He’d been ready to die to save Zarrah. Ready to die to right a wrong. Hell, he’d been ready to die to save his idiot brother-in-law. But dying now would accomplish nothing and leave so much undone. “She needs to know.”

“Later.”

“What if I die?”

“Then I’ll tell her. Zarrah, help him down.”

Zarrah eased him lower, but as she did, the ship switched course, the deck sharply canting the opposite direction. Pain spidered through him, and the world went dark for a heartbeat. When Keris’s vision returned, he was on his side, but what he needed to say was still with him. “Before he died, Serin told me information so that I’d understand why Petra would trust him. The history of their relationship.”

“Keris, later,” Lara hissed. “Save your strength.”

There might not be a later. And he needed to be certain that Zarrah understood that she had a right to the throne. That her legacy had been stolen from her. That she was no one’s pawn. “It needs to be now.”

“Keris—”

“You have no authority over him, Your Grace,” Zarrah said softly. “Nor over me, so be silent.”

Lara lunged to her feet, her anger palpable. “I’ll get my supplies. Try not to talk yourself to death.”

He watched his sister stride to the rear of the captain’s cabin and pull the thick drapes before lighting both lamp and brazier. Boots hammered across the deck outside the door, Aren’s shouted orders and others calling warnings making it hard for Keris to focus. The sentences he composed slipping away before he had a chance to voice them. “Before Serin died, he referred to your mother asthe true and rightful heir.The Ithicanians remember a rumor that your grandfatherhad come to desire peace between Maridrina and Valcotta in his later years, and that he wished for your mother to take the throne after his death, not Petra. A rumor that went abruptly silent.”

“The rebels called her the Usurper,” Zarrah whispered, and he nodded.

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